Monday 4 April 2022

Everyday Words

It might seem cliché; a meaningless and easy observation in our jaded world. But it's true nonetheless.  Life exists in the now.  Nowhere else.  The past is a dangerous ghost and the future a staggering possibility of what might be.  Now is the only moment of true power.  Our lives are best enjoyed by doing all we can to savour this moment.  Of course, nobody can live their lives in absence of strategy.  Or hope.  That's not what I'm saying.  I'm talking about the sacred, hidden dimension to everyday life.  We've all heard these things before and perhaps we agree somewhat blithely.  We understand these things intellectually at least.  Taking a moment to breathe, stopping to smell the roses.  But really feeling the truth of this sacral quality is something else entirely.  I think we underestimate the sheer psychological violence that can be inflicted upon us by modern living.  We human beings are so incredibly strong.  We're masters and mistresses of adaptation.  The world demands this shapeshifting from all of us, and sometimes we forget just how much we're grappling with.  Modern culture and politics can seem alienating and terrifying after all.  Many of us exist in a state of near-perpetual dissociation because of that terror.  We might not always recognise it because we're so skilled at adapting to circumstance.  We're subjected to so many pressures and are forced to adopt a variety of masks on any given day.  But finding the hidden power of the now is a skill like any other.  It grows with repetition and discipline.  These are the true wonders; a poet's muse.  Moments not ordinarily seen.  

Why even write these words?  Because I want to inspire people.  I want to take care of the ones I love.  But more than this, I'm always interested in sharing the truth.  Truth isn't always easily discernible.  Especially in a realm of such chaos and volume.  We all have gifts, don't we?   For myself, I've become attuned to subtle energies over the years.  Moonlight hidden by the glare of the sun, or a night-time stillness buried in the depths of the day.  The space between spaces.  Sometimes I can even sense things long before they happen.  Moments and events, personal or otherwise.  It used to be that I'd often wish I savoured the approach a little more.  The quiet time, the build-up, the foreplay.  I don’t make those mistakes anymore.  I give beauty all the time it needs to linger.  Such gifts teach you something.  An unwavering respect for the mysteries of human consciousness and our connection to the spiritual realm.  You might be forgiven for thinking that knowing the future would make you feel incredibly powerful.  But the opposite is so often the case.  You can feel small, lost and abstracted.  Driven mad by the quicksilver thresholds between fate and free will.  But it matters, this hidden dimension of the everyday.  A way to better taste the richness and depth of our own lives.  There are many ways towards God, many paths into this sacral perspective.  Meditation, journaling.  Physical exercise and focused attention.  And, of course, the creation and enjoyment of art.  Painting, poetry, music.  There are signs everywhere, indeed.  Every story you have ever loved is a part of you and is blessing you daily.  We might be unable to grasp this from our limited mortal perspective, but it's true nonetheless.  Art is the oldest magic.  The true high magic.  Lingua Franca of the immortal soul.  

Personally I have little choice but to treasure these sojourns of the sacred.  You see, I mostly live my life alone.  That's what happens when a human mind somehow recalls life before the Fall.  Before the cataclysmic War in Heaven.  I have family and friends scattered about this ruined realm.  I still cherish and remember them, but they don't remember me.  Or if they do it's only dimly, as if in a half-forgotten dream.  But I can live with that because the battles I face are all too real.  I don't want my beloved ones held hostage, used as collateral, or else swept up in the wake of this nightmarish war.  It's the price I pay, and I pay it gladly.  However, this hidden dimension of daily life keeps me connected to my loved ones.  It allows me to reach out and fulfil my role as silent guardian.  Even at such distance.  I love you, my friends.  I really do.  I'll keep fighting for a kinder and more courageous consciousness, on behalf of all the bright ones.  I'll use these strange skills to the best of my abilities.  We are all so much less alone when we feel connected, creative, or in love.  God is Love, and that’s the ultimate truth.  Our communion with that truth is our release from the burdens of sorrow.  My friends, there is so much humanity still doesn’t understand.  So much left to discover.  Whenever I feel lost or lonely I try to practice gratitude for the good things in my life.  Imagine how strange and mysterious the world might actually be if spirit were a genuine reality.  Because it is.  Even if you imagine only for a moment, there is great power in that moment.  Eternity is contained within each elevated observation, like the many secrets of a holy prism.  These are your pathways into presence, and wonder.  A little flare of rainbow colours on a hardwood floor.  The shining curiosity of a child.  An overheard conversation or melody that mends the soul.  The breathless afterglow between lovers.  Or the quiet joy of a peaceful bedroom filled with morning light.

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